Lucy wrinkled her brows in thought. "I didn't come to New York to
bury myself in a boarding-house," she said. "I do want to meet
people."

"Well," said Montague, "Oliver knows a lot of them, and he will
introduce you. Perhaps you will like them--I don't know. I am sure
you won't have any difficulty in making them like you."

"Thank you, sir," said Lucy. "You are as ingenuous as ever!"

"I don't want to say anything to spoil your pleasure," said the
other. "You will find out about matters for yourself. But I feel
like telling you this--don't you be too ingenuous. You can't trust
people quite so freely here as you did at home."

"Thank you," said Lucy. "Ollie has already been lecturing me. I had
no idea it was such a serious matter to come to New York. I told him
that widows were commonly supposed to know how to take care of
themselves."

"I had a rather bad time of it myself, getting adjusted to things,"
said Montague, smiling. "So you must make allowances for my
forebodings."

"I've told Lucy a little about it," put in Oliver, drily.

"He told me a most fascinating love story!" said Lucy, gazing at him
with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "I shall certainly look out
for the dazzling Mrs. Winnie."